They were staying out of the trail, and Lucas stopped, just a moment, to look at it. ''Looks the same,'' he said to Stadic.
''Yeah, gotta be her,'' Stadic said.
They ran harder, caught up with the uniforms. Lucas said, ''Listen up, guys, this woman has been talking to us. She actually called in and left the phone off the hook so we could follow it in to the apartment. We gotta be a little careful, but I don't think she's dangerous.''
''G-g-g-good,'' chattered the bareheaded cop. ''I'm fffuckin' freezing.''
''Well, Jesus, go get some clothes on,'' Lucas said. And to the others, ''Come on…''
They ran along the track, and as they approached a cross street, saw cops ahead.
A spotlight beam broke down toward them, and the uniforms waved their flashlights.
''She broke the perimeter before we set up,'' Lucas said. ''That means LaChaise probably did, too.''
He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out first the cell phone, then his handset, and said into the handset, ''The woman's outside the perimeter… we've got to spread it. The woman's outside for sure, LaChaise probably.''
He thrust the phone and handset back in his pocket and they ran along again, the cop cars behind them squealing in circles and then heading out to new positions.
The larger the square got, the thinner the cops would be: but cops were pouring in from everywhere, from Hennepin County, from St. Paul. No ordinary dog hunt.
As they followed on the trail, Lucas said, ''You know what? She's going to the dome.''
''You think?'' Stadic asked.
''She's trying to find a phone,'' Lucas said. He took the handset out again, and relayed the idea to Dispatch. ''Get her through to me if she calls.''
The streets were getting wider as they got closer to downtown, and then they lost the track: she'd turned into a clearedoff street.
''Still bet it's the dome,'' Lucas said. ''Tell you what,'' he said to Stadic and two of the uniforms, ''you guys go that way, we'll go this way, push both sides of that apartment. But I bet she headed for the dome. I'll see you on the other side and we'll go on over.''
''All right.''
They split up, and Lucas and the other uniform headed off to the left. As they approached the apartment, Lucas thoughtof the cellular phone, took it out, then the handset and called Dispatch. ''Get somebody at the phone company. I need a number I can call where they can trace a cell phone. I'll call them on the cell phone, and I want them to figure out the number, and then give me a list of calls billed from the phone… who's at the numbers. Got that?''
''Got it.''
They pushed around the apartment, found nothing but pristine snow. Stadic was waiting on the other side, and they all looked over at the dome.
''Let's go,'' Lucas said, but as he was about to step off the curb, Dispatch called. ''That was fast,'' he said.
''Lucas, Lucas…''
''Yeah?''
''LaChaise…'' The dispatcher was sputtering. ''LaChaise is at the
University Hospitals.''
''Oh, shit.''
Lucas look around wildly, spotted a cop car, waved at it, started running toward it, barely heard the dispatcher, ''Got your wife…''
''What?'' he yelled into the handset. And to Stadic: ''Stay with her, stay with
Darling.''
He ran toward the squad car, and as the car stopped and the window came down,
Lucas shouted, ''Pop the back door, pop the back.''
The driver popped the back door and Lucas dove inside and shouted, ''University
Hospitals, go, go…'' And to the handset, ''What about Weather? What about
Weather?''
''They think he might… have her.''
TWENTY-EIGHT
THE KID BEGAN TO CRY AS THEY PASSED THE METRODOME, and when LaChaise yelled at him, told him to shut up, he simply cried harder, holding on to the top of the steering wheel with both hands, tears pouring down his face.
LaChaise finally pushed himself up into the seat beside him and pointed the way: down to Washington, right, around a curve to a lighted sign that said several things, but concluded with ''Jesus Saves,'' down a ramp and onto a covered bridge.
''Shut up, for Christ's sakes, you do this right, I won't hurt you.''
''I know you,'' the kid said, ''you're gonna kill me.''
''I ain't gonna fuckin' kill you if you do right; I got no quarrel with you.''
But the kid started up again and LaChaise said, ''Jesus Christ,'' in disgust, and they rolled off the bridge past the beer-can building, up the hill to
Harvard Street.
''Turn,'' LaChaise said. The kid stopped weeping long enough to get around the corner, and before he could startagain, LaChaise said, ''Go straight ahead to that turnaround and then stop.''
''You gonna kill me there?''
''I'm not gonna fuckin' kill you, unless you get smart,'' LaChaise said. ''Just stop there and let me out, and go on your way.''
There were a half-dozen people on the street, coming and going from the hospital, slip-sliding down the sidewalks. Operations took place early in the morning. LaChaise had had two operations himself, for an appendix and to get a skin patch put over a bad case of road rash, and both times, they'd woken him up at dawn for the trip down to the operating room.
''Right there,'' he said, ''behind that red Chevy.''
The kid pulled in behind the Chevy, and LaChaise eased himself out, the backs of his legs on fire. The kid was looking at the gun and LaChaise grinned at him and dug into his jeans, found the remnant of the cash they'd taken from Harp, pulled out the wad of bills and threw it on the passenger seat. A couple of thousand dollars, anyway. ''Thanks for the ride,'' he said, and he stepped away from the car and slammed the door, and walked up to the hospital entrance.
He felt like a cowboy.
He carried his own pistol, the 'dog. 44, in his right hand, and pulled Martin's pistol out of his left pocket, and pushed through the doors using his elbows.
An information counter was just inside the doors to the right. A security guard sat behind the desk, watching a portable television. Three more people, two women and a man in a white medical jacket, were scattered around the lobby chairs, the women reading, the man staring sightlessly at the wall, as though he'd made an unforgivable error somewhere.
LaChaise walked over to the guard, who looked up only at the last minute, a smile dying a sudden death. LaChaisepointed the two guns at the guard's chest and said, ''Walk me up to the operating rooms or I'll kill you.''
The guard looked at the guns, then at LaChaise, and then, slowly, stupidly, at the television: ''They're looking for you,'' he said.
''No shit. Now get out of there and walk me up to the operating rooms. You got five seconds, then I kill you.''
''This way,'' the guard said. He came out from behind the desk, his hands held at shoulder height. He was unarmed. The three people in the lobby were looking at them, but nobody moved from their seats. ''There's another guy coming in, in one second,'' LaChaise said to the room in general. ''If anybody's moving, anybody's standing up, he'll kill you. Sit tight and you'll be okay. I'm Dick
LaChaise, that you seen on TV, and I'm here on business.''
The sound of the line pleased him; it sounded cowboy-like. They walked a few feet down a corridor, around a corner to the right, to a bank of elevators. The guard pushed the elevator button and the doors slid open. ''Three,'' he said, as they got inside. ''You gonna kill me?''
''Not if you do what I tell you,'' LaChaise said. ''When we get to three, you stay in the car and ride until you get to the top.'' LaChaise pushed all the buttons higher than three, and a bell rang and the door opened, and LaChaise waved the gun at the guard and said, ''I'll stand here until the doors are closed. If you get off before the top, somebody'll shoot your ass. Got that?''